Of Shadow Born
by WyldeGod
Summary: She found him standing alone against Chaos. Together, they would save a world, one evil at a time...
1. Five Dark Minutes

A short, dark piece.  Enjoy…

Of Shadow Born

        The guards shared a match and lit their respective cigarettes in the cold night air.  They didn't speak.  It wasn't that kind of a relationship, but one of a passing second spent in each others company as they traveled their short paths over and over in the night.

          Behind them, shadows seemed agitated.  They twitched.  There was a slight emptiness within the darkness that only direct light could illuminate.  The void, unmoving, still… within the black nothing surrounding it, simply existed.

          Waiting…

          Five minutes and counting…

          The guards shared a look, an eye twitch and a raised eyebrow.  They turned slowly scanning the immediate area until both sets of eyes rested on the shadows along the wall.  Those four eyes saw nothing and with a nod both men checked their weapons and moved on.  One laughed nervously as if feeling something wasn't quite as it should be.

          The shadows again twitched.  The void moved and the darkness showed a waxing visage within its center.  One deep brown eye possessed of secrets and experience well beyond its youth set perfectly above the slight upward curl of full lips emerged in a single fluid movement.  Barely audible was the whisper of a giggle as the obviously female features retreated into shadow becoming void within darkness again.

          Without thought…

          Only reaction…

          The guards turned on their course disappearing from view of the shadow dweller.  She moved then, a whisper of the wind blowing against the cold cement wall of the encampment being penetrated.  The figure, blurred to normal vision, moved smooth and delicate to another shadow.  Again the void waited without thought or sound within nervous darkness unused to such intrusion.

          Timing was the key to the maneuver.  Timing was the essence of the exercise this night.  The edge of the building awaited and beyond that edge was the main encampment where even more precise and calculated risk would be required.  The shadows seemed to breathe in time with the slight figure hidden within their depth as the second set of guards stacked against the first two approached their waypoint from the corner.

          Four minutes now…

          A smile visible to no one curled the pouting lips as guards approached and rounded the corner on either edge of the building.  He waved his hand signaling to his counterpart on the other side.  What a great idea the cigarette had been, he thought, a good distraction on a quiet night when nothing would occur.  As he dug into his uniform for the remnants of his overpriced pack something seized the moment to phase from the shadow behind him and disappear in a blurry haze to the depths of the compound.  The guard, oblivious to such things as the kittenish creature that had so recently been mere inches from him, reached for his armband marked with a bold symbol of hate and terror to dig out a lighter he kept tucked there.

          Crossing in darkness between floodlights scouring the grounds, the kitten stifled a giggle as she ducked into shadow just seconds before the next patrol stepped into view.  Her smooth olive skin under black leather slipped calmly into the shadow becoming one with the void.  She waited holding no thought in her mind, watching as suspicion peaked and passed on the face of the new guard protecting the new building.

          She searched for the next pocket of nothing she would become.  The wordless passing of fellow soldiers in the night occurred just feet away from her position.  A nod and a grunt and the guards continued along not really caring about the bleak wall with one heavy shadow behind them.  Another stifled snicker and the kitten moved swiftly across a small exposed patch to slide silently between two small buildings.

          Pressing knees and hands to either wall, she ascended to the rooftops where no guard walked.  Any step upon the roof would be heard within but this was not a tactical maneuver.  This was merely a moment of reconnaissance to better gauge the distance to target and locate the diversion planned this evening.  Locking knees in place, the kitten stole a glance at the guard tower holding two occupants.  They were focused on the far side of the camp.  She reckoned twenty seconds at least and pushed to the top corner of the brick and stucco military office.

          Nineteen…

          Eighteen…

          Seventeen…

          A quick glance to where she had so recently been passed her vision as she scanned the interior of the compound for the main office of the Colonel she sought.  She spotted eighteen more patrols of four men per building and triple standing guards on each of the four barracks.

          Nine…

          Eight…

          Seven…

          She checked each sector as the guards trapped in their raised perch swept the grounds and rooftops with bright halogen powered floodlights.  With only a second to spare, she again dropped below the edge of the building and locked her legs to either side of the bleak, dark space between the buildings.  Waiting…

          Guards passed below in succession.  Both men shined lights down along the dark black expanse between the infirmary and the computer center but did not look up to the night sky.  The kitten rolled her eyes at the lack of wisdom these soldiers possessed, understanding a little better how they had fallen in with such a despot as the one she had come to eliminate.  Moving on to more important things, complacent and comfortable with their stolen American weapons, the guards passed once again beyond her vision.

          She glanced into the computer lab's second level and noticed a panic stricken tech furiously punching keys, trying to regain rapidly disappearing files.  She smiled knowing her man was running his own little game this evening playing war in his way.  The first part of the diversion had begun.  In seconds the last part would begin and her back-up would disappear into the night without a trace, leaving the kitten to her curious little adventure.

          As if on cue from some higher authority, an explosion followed by a second and then third ripped through the peaceful night as guards from all sectors began yelling and shouting.  She poked her head up to verify the tower denizens were seeking movement in the darkness where the diversionary tactic would draw the less wise soldiers leaving the older, more experienced warriors to their paranoia.

          "WHAT IS IT!?!"

          "NORTH WALL!"

          "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

          "MOVE IN.  TEAMS TWO AND FOUR TO FLANK!  GO!  GO!"

          "WHY AREN'T THE ALARMS SOUNDING?!"

          Soldiers shouted as guards and half dressed troops poured from their positions and beds to rally the cause and fight the oppressor which had surely come to squelch their uprising.  Shouts of hate and misplaced vengeance rang out in the night as they headed toward the north wall to defend against the intruders that didn't exist.  Three more timed explosions roared, lighting the night sky this time from the south.

          "SOUTH WALL IS BREECHED!"  Someone shouted.  Troops split off from the northern assault to defend against the southern invaders.  Within minutes, more timed explosions and heavy weapons fire sounded from the north and south leaving the grounds within practically deserted.

          Inside the computer lab, an argument had broken out.  Three techs were frantically, desperately trying to stop a download from taking place.  They would not succeed.  The kitten giggled then and dropped twenty feet landing softly in shadow below.  She moved quickly and quietly toward her target knowing she would encounter the best mercenaries the terrorist leader could afford. 

          It was these harder mercenary types and trained officers she wanted isolated anyway.  The assassin had forgotten more of combat than the younger soldiers would ever know.  The older ones, although trained and very accomplished in guerilla tactics were worthy of her skills.  Each one of the seven her surveillance team had revealed to her would be in the way of the primary.

          They did not know she was coming.

          Not one of them would expect her.

          None would know or even understand the creature of shadow which ended their evil this night.

          She moved at blurry, blinding speed to the central building.  Arguments and shouting could be heard from within.  A quick scout of the immediate are revealed two of her secondary targets discussing options in front of the side entrance.  She moved along the shadowed expanse behind them.  Again she found herself in a surreal position standing just a few feet away from the two arguing mercenaries.  It would be quick.

          She smiled.

          She giggled.

          Both men stopped and looked in the direction of the strange noise and there, nothing but shadow remained.  When they turned back to face each other with a shared shrug, one fell dead from an unseen force and the other, suddenly gripped and pulled to an awkward angle fell limp and broken.  The last sound they heard, a little snicker mocking them as they fell away from the light.

          The feline creature, a shadow only, moved in absolute control into the main office.  A blurry vision, ghostly and alien to the tech's eyes moved on targets three and four of seven leaving two broken bodies on the floor.  The room fell silent and quiet.  The tech was afraid even to breathe, praying desperately to a god that would no longer care.

          "Boo."  The kitten whispered sharply from behind the young, but educated tech.  He tried to turn.  He was shaking.  He was instantly unconscious but alive.  An innocent in a bad place at the worst possible time, he had become a victim of circumstance falling to the evil promise of power that would never have been his.  The feline being turned and opened the door, moving to the short corridor that would lead to the primary and remaining secondary targets.

          A door opened revealing a stunned officer of some repute.  He tried frantically to focus on the blurred and inhumanly fast aspect phasing past him.  An attempted shout was silenced as his neck was snapped while being thrust back into the room he had just exited.  His body dropped, already forgotten to the floor.  The door closed as the kitten moved to the air duct to find an alternate route toward the main office.

          Passing a room, she heard a soft argument, irrelevant to her but heated in its simplicity.  Fear being the driving factor behind this disagreement.  She checked her watch and noted the time.  Zero was approaching fast and she needed to be in position for the final phase of the master plan.  She would be there waiting when the final moment presented itself.

          Quietly, she worked her fingers into the slats of the vent panel positioning her small frame, preparing to pounce.  A quick push and she dropped into the room.  Throwing the flat, square vent panel, she dropped behind the sixth secondary target and quickly snapped his neck.  The big frame dropped with a dull thud to the floor revealing a headless corpse that had been the seventh target.  The fat head rolled lazily to a stop against the wall beneath the vent panel.  It had lodged there with a sharp ripping thud.  Blood still dripped from its slats.

          A disgusted frown appeared for only a second at the spurting fluid as the assassin jumped back into the vents to await her final signal and end the reign of terror the evil Colonel had begun so long ago.

          Moving only a few feet before she could look down on the primary, she waited patiently for the end to begin.  An electronic noise sounded as the generator cut out.  Power dropped across the camp leaving only the sound of sporadic gunfire.  Light was no longer welcome within the confines of the makeshift stronghold so easily breeched by one small warrior of pure intent.

          The colonel grabbed his phone and slammed it down when he realized it held no signal.  He punched his intercom but no sound announced out front.  He called out but none would hear him.  He was utterly alone, left to listen to occasional bursts of weapons fire and a rare grenade thrown at targets that did not exist.

          She smiled.  It had been as easy as she thought it would be, as she had agreed with her man that it could be.  She checked her watch and marked the last few seconds to the final act of a perfect play.

          Three…

          Two…

          One…

          It began on cue.  There was a slight pop as the TV came to life controlled from some unseen source of immense power.  A modern Magick exploited by a post modern Master of such arts.  The set came to life building in volume until every speaker in the camp carried the droning static.  All activity ceased throughout the small compound as soldiers and low level officers were stunned by the loud noise.

          "Do not attempt to adjust your set.  This is a streaming freedom satellite hack of The Eyes Only Informant Net.  This hack cannot be traced.  It will not be stopped and it is the only free voice left in a broken world."

          The scrolling words framing the grey background above and below ran across the screen.  "STREAMING FREEDOM STREAMING FREEDOM STREAMING FREEDOM..." The eyes of a man of deep knowledge and wisdom phased with the eyes of a woman equally wise and powerful.  The slow, deliberate morph between man and woman matched the chorused voice pattern in opposition.  The male voice prevalent over female, layered in waves upon the ever changing eyes of the woman and the man.  Two souls of power joined, striking fear in all who opposed and hope in all who believed.

          "Tonight an evil within the world will fall."  The chorus of male and female spoke.  "Tonight that evil will fall away from the light into darkness.  Tonight that evil will end."

          No longer a kitten playing a game, she of shadow born dropped silently into the darkness and moved quickly to a position behind the Colonel mesmerized by the screen glowing in front of him.  The words of the satellite broadcast playing out to the world, screaming of an end to the evil he had become.

          "Colonel Michelle Trelaine, trained by the French Foreign Legion and surrounded by his staff of officers comprised of American Mercenaries, Russian Secret Service and Egyptian Terrorists will fall."  The chorus explained.

          The Colonel dropped into his chair with a heavy thump.  His body going limp as Eyes Only's new avatar related his tale.

          "The Colonel sought to harm innocent lives in the name of freedom but his goals were far more devious and sinister.  Only his personal staff understood what his fifth column troops were truly doing.  The drugs and guns being sold on the black market and the world wide slavery ring only funded his true plans of dominating the broken union once called The United States."

          "How…" The defeated Colonel muttered.  He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end when Eyes Only continued.

          "You must be asking yourself how by now.  You must be wondering how Eyes Only knows of your covert operation.  You must be running over every meeting and plan you and your men have ever discussed or held in secret places.  It is simple.  Eyes Only sees everything."  The screen showed a flash panel with frozen stills and silent movies of the Colonel and members of his staff making deals in various locales around the world.  "TONIGHT IT ENDS!"  The chorus of man and woman roared.  The flash panel disappeared to reveal cat's eyes fading back to the morphing eyes of a man and his woman.  A Dark Angel and her Guardian.

          The Colonel breathed a last sigh as he felt the firm grip on his neck.  He heard a last laugh that was not his.  It was short and quick and mocking in its tone of contempt and disgust over the suffering he had caused.  Then the Colonel knew only darkness.  There was no light for him to follow, only an abyss, falling forever.

          "The Colonel and his men have been removed.  The US Military and Homeland Security are moving on his camp.  His troops will be taken into custody and debriefed.  Some will be expelled to their own countries.  Some will be arrested.  Some will fight and die rather than be taken.  All will pay for their crimes.  This has been a Streaming Freedom Satellite Hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net.  Peace.  Out."  The screen faded to black and fell silent.

          The kitten was already gone, returned to the shadows she came from.

          Some time later, a man and a woman stood in each others arms.  They looked out over their city.  Their home.  The road was still long before them.  Their beginnings were far behind though and the path they had both willingly chosen was stretched further into a past they alone had conquered.  One day they would accomplish the goal they both sought and strived for.  That elusive freedom all in a broken world dreamed of and cried out to the gods that they might have.  One day the man and woman would go to that cabin in the woods by a deep blue lake and raise a family in a world at peace with what it had become.  It was the reward they wanted for themselves.

          Normal lives in an ordinary world…

          Somewhere… somewhere not here, a darker aspect of ultimate power sat pleased with the angel of His creation born, and her guardian made of the same shadow and power.  Together they would save His most prized creation and keep the hope all of His people had lost, alive.


	2. Money and Power

A new mission…

**Of Shadow Born**

Mission Two: Money and Power

          The door opened slowly.  A man, obviously concentrating on something in the hall, backed in quietly.  He was dressed in black and had wrapped a charcoal scarf around his head.  Surveillance cameras would pick up a dark clad ninja on the premises.  That is, if they saw him at all.  Even then only his eyes were visible.

          He backed into the office closing the door with barely a sound.  Staying low in a crouch, he turned and scanned the room letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.  He produced a small light from his pocket and again scanned the room, locking his sights on the desk in front of the window.

          He moved slow taking large, controlled strides testing his footing before taking the next step.  He was careful.  He had done this before.  He had never been caught.

          A sound drew his attention.  It sounded almost like a giggle from somewhere deep in shadow in the room.  The man dropped to a defensive posture and searched the darkness with his mini light.  He saw nothing, but one shadow in particular drew his attention.  It seemed to pulse with something he couldn't even begin to understand.

          "Ninjaaaaa…"  A voice said.  Before he could react in any way, the shadow itself launched at him.  He knew only fear in that instant.  He wanted to scream, but his voice failed him.  He wanted to fight, but his muscles had abandoned him.  He wanted to run, but his legs had lost their strength.  He had been a part of the shadow.  He had made it an ally in his missions.  He died, wondering why it had turned on him.

          The shadow, now a fantastically beautiful young woman stood over the body of the dead man.  Nothing could have been done for him.  His end had already been written in the pages of a book kept by a secret guardian and his dark angel.  The kittenish creature of the darkest places stood over him in contemplation.  She was not sad, nor was she happy.  She had no feeling in moments such as this.  She merely watched for a minute, looking upon this one like so many others.  He never had a chance against one born to shadow and stealth.

          Security would find him the next morning.  Rigor Mortis will have set in, locking his body into a bizarre pattern loosely resembling the defensive posture he had chosen before the shadow had reached out for him.  The woman running the office would find him.  A scream would erupt and others would come rushing in.  She would know why he had died there on her floor.  She would run to her computers and frantically tap her fingers until she realized her hard discs no longer existed.  Her fears would be realized.  She would have to leave or die.  She would be left with only nightmares of the look of absolute fear forever etched on the dead ninja's face.

          Satisfied with her immediate mission, she moved to the desk and pulled out the base unit of the computer.  Two minutes later, the small dark haired beauty was gone.  Her rival was lost to his own abyss.  The prize she sought was in her possession.  She stood out on the ledge several stories above the dark Seattle night looking down on the city.  Off in the distance stood a tower she called home.  It was a place full of secrets.

          In a central chamber of a dark tower, a man sat quietly in a chair.  The kitten purred behind her man watching closely everything he did.  Pages of information flashed across the screen.  Video and recordings of meetings played out.  Occasionally, the female would point and the man would nod.  Occasionally the male would point and the female would nod.  In time, they had what they needed to make the next move.  The plans were set and when the moment was right, they would strike at their next target.

          A small piece would be slipped back into place.  It wasn't much, but a little here and a little there would have to do.  They took their destiny seriously.  They had chosen this path and after all had been said and done; they alone stood free and clear while their enemies fell to inevitable doom around them.  They had become legends in their time, but only a few highly trusted associates and friends actually knew them.

          With the plans set.  The small dark goddess stared up into her man's eyes.  He looked deep into hers.  With a nod and a hesitant smile, the little one of shadow phased into her true self as the man returned to his devices.  Together, with fear and shadow their only friends, they would bring down an empire of pain and suffering.

          Three guards stood quietly conversing under a tree.  They were discussing chicken dinners and the inevitable shortage of toilet paper while thanking their gods they were on the inside unlike so many out there.  Hidden above them, protected by shadow and silence, the kitten waited for her opening.  When it came, she was no more than a breeze rushing through the trees.  The guards remained clueless and continued their irrelevant conversation.

          Across the field, in a pocket of deep shadow the kitten rested a moment counting down seconds to the next stage of the operation.

          Three…

          Two…

          One…

          And all the lights went out on the sprawling estate.  Shouts and calls of alarm went up around the grounds.  She smiled as she dashed through the dark expanse of intricately manicured lawn and garden to disappear into a grove of trees lining the back patio.

          On the patio, a small group of security personnel had gathered to discuss plans.  The kitten waited patiently as they shouted and argued.  She watched as it almost came to blows and then, as if on cue, the lights came back up.

          "What the hell?"  One of the guards asked.

          "It doesn't matter."  Another said.  "It's just a brown out.  It'll probably happen again so be prepared."

          "Prepared for what?"  A third asked.

          "Anything!"  The second one shouted.  "Now back to your posts.  Move out."

          They scattered, leaving the chief guard standing there.  He turned and looked up toward the balcony.  A man and woman were there.  They had worried looks on their faces.  The guard leader gave the all clear signal as he backed up a few steps to the stand of trees.  He had no idea what was about to happen.  Neither did the couple in the window.

          The shadows twitched behind him.  Wind rustled the leaves.  The couple looked at each other.  As their eyes focused on one another, the shadows focused on the guard, and without a sound he was engulfed by the trees behind him.  When the couple turned their attention back just a scant three seconds later, the guard had disappeared.  Wind whistled on the edge of an approaching storm.  One small branch on a tree was waving up and down.

          The couple clutched tighter to each other and slowly backed away from the window.  They knew it would end soon.  They were not stupid, but they had been greedy.  They used deception and lies to gain their advantage.  Now their time had come.

          The home was lavish and filled with treasures both rare and wonderful.  Antique furniture and classic statues decorated every room.  Famous paintings and ancient tapestry lined the walls.  She moved quickly between rooms.  Her movements were precise and timed perfectly.

          She knew her destination.  The blueprints had been secured and studied.  The path was clear.  She looked up at the camera in the corner of the hall.  A stolen glance let her man know she was on schedule and in control of the situation.  She nodded and the power again dropped.

          Shouting and confusion built outside.  The kitten could hear their chaotic screaming, the mad yells and pleas for answers.  They demanded to know where their chief was.  They wanted to know what was happening as a light rain began to fall.  They would not find his body before morning.  None realized they were already broken.

          She moved quickly up the steps in the darkness.  A guard stepped out onto the landing in the hall and looked down to the floor below.  He did not notice the void within the surrounding shadow approaching at inhuman speed.  He would not understand what sent him to his darkest place.  He never knew what sent his lifeless form crashing to the intricate marble floor below.  The dull thud of his body would not draw attention.

          She ran down the long hall.  A quick distraction later, she stood in the study watching the couple.  The room was a shadow itself, black except for the arc of a rare bluish-white glow of the full moon shining in from the balcony.  The middle-aged couple stood arm in arm, silhouetted against the sliding French-style doors leading to the balcony.  A quick movement and a slight, but planned noise brought the couples attention to the center of the room.

          "Who's there?"  The man demanded.  His voice cracked with fear.  "Who are you?"

          "What do you want?"  The woman pleaded.  "We can give you money…"  She said as if it mattered.  

          The kitten giggled and the couple turned toward the sound, but surrounded by shadow, they could see nothing.  There was an audible click and the television set against the wall gave off a dull hazy glow brightening with a snowy field.

          The familiar crackle and fizzy pop brought a smile to the feline presence still tucked safely in her shadows.  Two sets of eyes, phasing between male and female appeared behind the snow, staring out at the couple.  The eyes watched them.  

          "Oh God!"  The woman whispered.  "No… not him…"

          "Do not attempt to adjust your set."  A pair of voices spoke.  One male and one female voice announced the inevitable.  "This is a streaming freedom satellite hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net."  They said.  The snow dissolved to reveal the scrolling blue and red background of Eyes Only.  "This hack cannot be traced.  It will not be stopped.  It is the Only free voice left in this broken world."

          "This isn't happening."  The man mumbled.  "This can't be happening."

          "Do you recognize this man?"  Eyes Only asked.  A picture of the man standing in his wife's embrace floated across the screen followed by the woman holding onto him.  "How about this woman?"

          "Of course you recognize them.  The man is Henry Finch and the woman is his wife, Mary Elise Finch.  They are senior partners of Finch, Finch and Dunleavey.  You may recognize the law firm they own as well.  It is well known in certain circles where good people fear to tread.  You see, the Finch's are quite adept at protecting criminals while innocent people get set aside and forgotten, left to die or waste away never to be heard from again."

          "Not us…"  The woman had started to cry.  The man was not making a sound.  "We don't deserve this…"  She muttered.

          "They have protected the wrong people for far too long.  They will no longer have free reign to do as they wish.  Recently they handled a lawsuit for Jaxon Simpson.  Mr. Simpson was arrested on smuggling charges.  He had been shipping heroin, cocaine and several designer drugs into this country in exchange for young men and women.  He supplied the teens to foreign investors in exchange for the drugs.  There have been countless lives lost on both sides of the Pacific to Mr. Simpson's actions and thanks to Finch and Finch; he is again a free man."

          "How can he know?"  The woman asked.  "It hasn't even been announced yet."

          "God help us…"  The man said.

          "Mr. and Mrs. Finch will learn a hard lesson tonight.  They will be the message sent to Mr. Simpson that he is next."  Eyes Only finished the statement.  The husband and wife dropped heavily to the floor still in each others arms.  No higher power would help them.  They had been abandoned as Simpson would soon be.  "This has been a streaming freedom satellite hack."

          "Peace."

          "Out."  The screen dissolved into snow.  The eyes, male and female slowly faded leaving only the snowy static.  Eventually, the screen went blank.  She had come for them.  She accomplished what needed to be and left before the bodies slumped to the floor.

          Across town, Jaxon Simpson sat quietly in his own study wondering what had just happened.  His people were gathered around the television in silence.  They were stunned.  They were shocked.

          When they turned he was already on the phone.  "Bring my car around!"  He commanded someone.  "I don't care.  If he thinks he can get to me, then he's got another thing coming!"  He explained.  He stood and looked at his people.  "Get me Finch on the line."

          "What do we do now, Sir?"  A woman asked.  There was an edge of fear to her voice.  "If Eyes Only is on to us…"

          "Eyes Only is just trying to scare us."  Simpson shouted.  There was a twitch in his voice.  "I am not afraid of Eyes Only!"

          "But the rumors…"  Simpson's bodyguard said.  "What if those rumors are true?"

          "They aren't."  Simpson said.  "Eyes Only is a myth.  I'll have Finch on the line in a moment."  He smiled.

          "Mr. Finch on line 3."  A voice said across the intercom.  

          "Henry…"  Simpson started switching the phone to speaker so everyone could hear what he believed.

          "Umh… no."  Said a man.

          "Who is this?"  Jaxon demanded.

          "This is Peabody.  Mr. and Mrs. Finch are dead sir.  We don't know how it happened."  Peabody said.  "We don't know where the chief is either."

          "What do you mean?  My brother is head of security over there.  Where is Darius?"  Simpson demanded.

          "He's missing sir.  He disappeared from the patio just before we saw the hack."  Peabody explained.  "When the power went out, we went on full alert, but we didn't detect any movement or see anyone.  By the time we reached the study, Mr. and Mrs. Finch were already dead."

          "Who did it?"  Simpson demanded.  "There has to be someone there.  They couldn't have gotten far.  I just watched the hack myself."

          "That's just it, Sir.  There is no one here.  There has been no one here.  They were alive when the hack started and they were dead when it ended.  We don't know anything else…"

          Simpson knocked the phone from his desk.  He looked at everyone in his office.  "I'll be on my boat."  He announced.  Three minutes later he was in his car and leaving the grounds.

          Pier 13 was alive with activity.  A small pocket of shadow waited patiently for an opening.  There was no hurry.  Eyes Only had already seen this.  The yacht was going nowhere.  Jaxon Simpson would fall tonight and never rise again.

          She slipped from the shadows on the dock and dropped with hardly a wave into the water alongside the pier.  The murky water welcomed the creature that swam through it, a willing ally of shadow in times such as this.

          It wasn't complicated to reach the main deck of the huge yacht.  Everyone's attention was focused on the pier.  The gangplank was the center of all commotion.  She climbed the short distance from water to boat and dropped immediately into a crouch.

          Her man had secured the design of this particular yacht from the manufacturer's database and together they had studied the blueprints.  They knew he would run.  No one stays and waits when they know that the eyes are watching.  Jaxon Simpson was no different.  He ran as fast as he could.

          She moved along the port side heading into the depths of the large boat.  She would work her way up from down below.  The message had to be sent to anyone that had already considered picking up the mantle of this operation.  It was a hard decision to make, but together, the guardian and his dark angel were aware of what had to be done.  They understood why it had to be this way.  They were willing to make the example.

          She moved toward the engine room first.  Three men were hard at work preparing to leave the bay.  She moved fast.  A quick movement placed her behind the first target.  She snapped his neck and moved for the second man.  He had no idea what slammed his large, muscular frame into the bulkhead.  She lifted his arm twisting it up and over her head sending him into a rotation which brought his feet into the third engineers face just as he turned toward the commotion.  He saw only a small, dark shadow manipulating his counterpart before he lost consciousness.  The feline entity moved fast, ending the other two lives and shutting down the engines for good.  A small charge was rigged to explode as soon as the yacht powered up again.  With a sarcastic giggle, she was on to her next target.

          Moving from the engine room up through the galley, she was surprised to find three people there preparing meals.  They did not notice her enter and when she left they would never know what power had rendered them unconscious.  She left the galley, moving quickly without sound past the cabins toward the main room.  Laughter and squeals could be heard there as some of the Simpson's friends and associates were starting up the bon voyage party early.  No one noticed her slip into the room.  No one paid any attention as she made her way out and around toward the upper decks of the boat.

          Approaching the cabin, she noticed two men walked out, heading in opposite directions.  She stepped back becoming one with the deep shadow on the port side, opposite the shore.  The man walked toward her as his partner disappeared around the front of the cabin heading toward the reporters to make a statement.

          Stopping directly in front of her, the tall dark skinned man stared out over the water.  He pulled hard on his last cigarette before flicking it out into the ocean.  He never saw it hit the water.

          Jaxon Simpson sat in the Captain's chair.  His hand held his chin up while his elbow dug into his leg above the knee.  He was staring at the small monitor in front of him.

          The phasing eyes and chorused voices of Eyes Only spoke in sad yet beautiful tones of the death of one man.  "Jaxon Simpson thought only of running to protect himself.  He believed he could flee and not have to stand for his crimes.  He is wrong.  Tonight, at this very moment, he will understand."  Eyes Only said.

          Jaxon stood to his full height.  He did not attempt to defend himself.  He had accepted his fate.  "I have money."  He said.  His tone was one of confusion.  Money and power were supposed to protect him.  Neither would matter any more.

          Eyes Only continued.  "Money will not help you.  Power will not make your crimes disappear.  You, like so many others, will be forgotten.  You will be lost to the dark abyss you made an ally of for so long."  The phasing eyes of man and woman faded into the snow on the monitor.  "There is no place in this world for his kind.  Eyes Only will not rest until this world is free and clear of itself.  Peace."  The eyes flashed wild feline pupils.  "Out."

          One minute later, his men burst into the cabin.  They found his body sitting in the seat he had risen from.  They could find no trace of an intruder.  They could see no attempts at forced entry or struggle.  They found only Jaxon Simpson's body.  The neck had been broken.

          He had no light to follow in the end.

          Only endless falling into nothing.

          One hour later, a kitten again, she emerged from the shower with a long t-shirt and walked over to her man standing in the large picture window that looked out over their city.  She didn't hesitate.  He didn't resist.  They embraced in the moonlight and held fast to each other.  She sipped his wine and pressed her cheek into his chest.

          In time, they would again continue their lives.  Their chosen path would beckon and they would come from the shadows, his Magick and her Power would conquer any that stood against them.  There will be freedom or they will die trying.  The world demanded at least that much.

          Soon, the brooding would end.  Slowly, they would begin to move in unison to music they held within themselves.  Their steps, perfect.  Their energy would always be pure.  They alone would bring order to a world gone mad.  The past was and the future would be, but always somewhere in between, the dark angel and her guardian stood alone against Chaos

          Somewhere not here, the darkest Aspect of ultimate power remained silent.  Proud.  He watched over them as they watched over that which He created.  The battles are numerous but the war has always been.  It would always be.  They found each other amidst Chaos.  They were born of shadow.  Together, they would return that which had been lost. 


	3. The Placebo Factor

Of Shadow Born

The Placebo Factor

          _There had been a time when dreaming of how things could be were enough.  It was back in those days, days that seem so long ago, that she would watch him moving around the rooms with a control over everything in his presence.  In a way he even had control over her.  He didn't actually want it.  He had not demanded or taken it.  It just happened, and she willingly let it happen.  Just being in his presence had given her more of a life than she had out on the streets, stealing to survive.  She was more than capable of survival; it was the way she was made, but the man she found that night did something to her and she found herself wanting more and more of him each day._

_          She had wanted it, had been looking for it.  They met on the edge of a storm.  She was wild and feral, living only in the moment without care or concern for anything but her own survival.  He was living in seclusion, a part of, yet somehow removed from the broken world he was trying to fix.  He presented an opportunity to her that she could never refuse.  She offered an easier way for him to battle the evil he alone stood against in a dangerous world._

_          She had been on the run for so long; she had given up on finding someone that she could connect with.  He had been alone for so long; he had given up on ever finding someone.  Then on a cold night, they found each other in a dark hall.  The storm was approaching and although neither could see or hear it coming, they knew they would never again be alone._

_          But… times change and people change.  They had changed.  They had been out on the edge of the abyss staring over the infinite depth at the Chaos below.  Occasionally they would look across and see each other.  It was moments like those they lived for.  It was those stolen moments that kept them sane and centered._

_          Chaos doesn't accept control.  It is an entity that won't allow for control.  It likes to be free and in a broken world, Chaos thrives._

_          She stood there looking over the abyss, watching him.  Her guardian.  Her man.  The greatest man she had ever known.  She smiled.  He nodded.  She knew what was coming.  They had been waiting for this day for a long time._

_          There comes a time in every beings life when a leap of faith is required.  Sometimes, the gods that be demand it.  Sometimes they force it.  In the realm of a dark angel and her guardian, they willingly chose to take that leap together.  They alone had the power and knowledge to set things right and they accepted the responsibility._

_          He glanced around.  He looked into the abyss.  He looked across to her and nodded.  She smiled.  He looked down again and could see the Chaos staring back at him.  It was waiting._

_          It had accepted their challenge…_

_          And so with a leap of faith and belief only in each other, they jumped into that abyss, and into Chaos and disorder…_

          He opened his eyes to see the kitten still wrapped in his arms.  She turned from his chest to look up into his eyes.  They knew it was a dream.  Many times, they had such prophetic visions and many times these visions had come to pass in various forms.

          He sighed.  She snickered and purred.  He liked when she purred.  She knew it gave him strength.  She only did it for him.  Others might hear, but he alone understood.  He alone could feel the power within her.

          She nodded, clutching to him, purring loud and strong, stealing that one last minute of comfort and pleasure from his strong arms.  He pulled her tighter in those arms and she drew power from the embrace.  He would not disappoint her, nor would she ever let him down.  These two had it hard that way.

          Twenty minutes later, the guardian was sitting in his private chamber.  His Magick, powerful as it is, required preparation.  The kitten's power required little preparation, but in its purest form stood unmatched by any save her brothers and sisters.

          She smiled down, taking one last kiss from him before she turned and disappeared with a wink and a serious nod.  She was gone and he was instantly aware of something lacking, something of his own self missing.  He knew she would return to him.  She had said it herself once.

          _"Not even death could keep me away from you." _

          She had said that to him, mumbled it actually, from within his arms the very night he carried her from the burning remains of the project.  Then, she had slept and he watched over her unable to find sleep on his own.

          Every time, she smiled before leaving.  Each time she kissed his forehead before disappearing into the shadow they both know so well, he felt that same lack of something he could not name.  Time would pass.  His fingers would move effortlessly across the keyboard.  His Magick, powerful even in it's simplest form.  He was strong and here in his tower he had become the greatest at the game.  None could touch him here, but always, deep in the back of his mind, he worried about her.

          It would not compromise the mission.  It would not cause problems, but it is always there.

          "Hey."  A voice spoke through his speakers.

          "Hey kitten."  He answered.  "Read me?"

          "Loud and clear," She said.  "I'm going in."

          "Roger that.  Time is 21:47 and 33 seconds."  He announced.

          "Copy, running silent," She said.

          The feeling had eased somewhat as she spoke, but now; as she again disappeared, he was lacking that certain something that he could not name.

          He turned his attention back to the screens in front of him.  A few lines of code allowed him complete access to the external security systems.  An extra line granted him access to the internal systems.  He copied loops to stump the guards, most likely not paying attention anyway.  He laughed at them, knowing full well some of them would not survive the night.

          It was not funny.  It just was.  Eyes Only had a reputation and that reputation was dark by its very nature.  Evil, when it fell under the gaze of the eyes, could not exist there.  The dark angel would not allow it.

          The loops were copied.  A hotkey would activate them at the appropriate time and the kitten's path would be that much easier.  He pushed himself at moments like these into a place that only he could go.  There was no thought, only the code.  On his end, the code was everything.  On his end, he was everything the code needed.  Eyes Only was the only master of the game, because Eyes Only had created the game.

          Everything was prepared.  Timing had come to a perfect point.  He sat quietly, waiting for the sign only he knew to look for.  There it was.  On the corner of the screen in camera number three.  A blurry trail moved past three guards catching a smoke in the cool night air.  None of them noticed as she stepped into shadow along the wall.  He could hear their conversation through her mic.  It was distant, but clear.

          "So she squeezes into the chair and starts to grind."  One said.

          "Dude, you dawg," Another said.  "You a hound from hell, man!"

          "I'm telling ya.  She was the hottest number I've ever seen."  The first one continued.  Their voices trailed off as his kitten scaled the wall and entered the building from the third floor.  They hadn't noticed the shadows pulsing around her.  They couldn't.  He had seen it, but they could see nothing.  They didn't know how.

          "Hallway is clear."  He verified and repeated.  "Hallway is clear."

          She slipped into the hall and headed left toward the corner office.  Target number one would be there.

          It was a simple enough operation.  Roland Dickerson was the President of Sutherland Pharmaceuticals.  Johnson Sutherland had taken over the company after his father's untimely death at a party at Edgar Sonrisa's mansion a few years earlier.  The old man had been in deep with Sonrisa and after Bruno Anselmo shot the place up, Sutherland's father was one of the DOA being delivered to the Metro Medical Morgue.  

          Roland Dickerson had been Johnson's roommate in college.  The two men had been very good friends.  They had started a few businesses, startups with heavy ties to the internet when it mattered.  After the pulse though, both men came on board with Sutherland Pharmaceuticals out of necessity.  They had helped solidify its position in the post pulse economy.

          Tonight, both men had no idea they would not see morning come.  There were incidental targets along the way.  Five people would find no sleep tonight, or perhaps they would find too much of it.

          He listened.  There was no security camera in the first office to watch.  It had been shut off.  The risk to the operation was minimal.  There could be no such exposure.

          "Is someone there?"  A voice asked.  The voice was female, about fifty and suddenly, very unsure of itself.  "WHO ARE YOU?!?"  The voice demanded, but a slight squelching sound ended the conversation.

          "That's one."  He said from his dark tower.  He knew his woman heard.  She could always hear him.  "Four to go," He said continuing the mission.  The older executive had already been forgotten.  "Two guards in the hall.  Wait for it…"

          He knew his kitten well enough to know that she was counting the seconds and listening at the door.  She could hear what he watched.  Maybe they heard the shouted question.  Maybe they didn't.  They were essentially the innocents in this equation and didn't deserve the same fate as the others, but ultimately, it wouldn't matter really.  Sometimes, others get in the way and inevitably, have to be removed.

          "Moving on," He announced to her.  "They are waiting for the elevator."  He counted out the seconds in his head.  Timing was always a factor on these missions.  Satellites were not plentiful and windows of opportunity were something of a challenge.  The Challenge was to control the satellite and not get hacked himself.  His Magick was strong, though, and he maintained the control when necessary.  "Go, now."  He said.  She appeared in the hallway cameras just as the elevator doors were closing.  The guards hadn't even turned around before the doors closed.  They saw nothing.

          "Down the hall and on the right side is the stairwell.  It's deserted.  Two floors up is target number two.  He's locking his office right now."  He announced.  She nodded and moved quickly up the stairs.  Her body was nothing more than a blur taking the steps in short leaps.  She was waiting by the door three seconds later, ready to pounce.

          "He's turning… wait, he forgot something.  Perfect.  You can take him out in his office."  He watched her in the security cameras.  She moved out of the door silently, only the smooth sound of the well oiled door was audible to his microphone.  She moved from the stairwell to his office door in a blur.  She was behind him in seconds, pushing him into his office.

          The door closed slowly on automatic hinges and he could see the body slumping to the floor of the office from the camera at the end of the hall facing the corner office.  There had been no sound beyond the slight thud of the body hitting the floor, the latching sound of a closing door.  The second of three Vice Presidents in position to continue the operation was now out of the picture.

          "You're all clear to the next floor.  Target 3 is still sitting in her office.  She is on the phone."  He got a thumb up and a nod in response.  He checked his watch to see how they were running.  Right now, they were 48 seconds ahead of schedule.  "There is a vent panel above and behind the desk.  It runs straight up.  The first opening is directly into her office."

          She was already climbing.  He had lost sight of her and in the metal walls of the air duct, her connection was slightly disrupted.  These moments were the ones he dreaded, but when the grate behind the woman moved, he knew all was well.  The security feed switched off before the vent panel disappeared into the duct work.

          "Okay, hon.  I'll talk to you in the morning then.  This meeting tonight will be the last one for a while.  The bosses are heading out to sea for a while until this whole situation with Eyes Only blows over…" She paused, listening to the other speaker for a minute.  "I love you, too."  She said just before she hung up the phone.  It landed slightly harder than necessary.

          The rustling of leather was the only audible sound in the office.  He knew it had already been done when she hung up the phone.  The noise it made hitting the cradle indicated it had been dropped from a short distance.  The loud clapping of plastic on plastic covered the sound of target 3's demise.

          "Three down," He said.  "And I've located Dickerson and Sutherland in the main office at the top of the building.  They are alone but guards are posted at both entrances.  The main office through the building is guarded by two men and there is only one guard near the chopper on the roof.  He seems to be occupied with the view.  Hold on."  He said.

          A few minutes of furious typing and just a slight snicker later, he came back on.  She had made her way to the top of the building in those few short minutes.  She waited patiently outside of the hall in the fire escape.  No thought held ground in her mind.  She knew he was going to remove the nuisance of guards for her.  Then she could get to a secondary position and approach on schedule without interference.

          "Okay."  Third door on the left is a maintenance closet.  There is a vent panel there leading straight to the main office.  It faces the TV.  When the broadcast starts, you can go in.  They will be absorbed in the broadcast."  He said.

          "3…"

          "2…"

          "1…"

          "Holmes, Walker…" A scratchy radio voice reached her hyper sensitive ears through the fire door.  "We've got a level two fire alert four floors down from you.  "Timmons is on his way up, but you'll get there quicker.  The fire suppression system isn't functional.  You need to trip it manually."

          "Copy that."  One of the guards said.  "Walker, go up on the roof, I'll check out the fire."  Holmes said.  Walker nodded.

          "Wait for it…"  He muttered to his woman.  She listened and as she heard the hallway clear, she opened the door.  "Clear."  He announced to her, but she was already on her way to the maintenance closet.  She smiled, letting him know how easy this had been.  He knew the look on her face.  She didn't enjoy this activity, but she knew it was necessary.

          "I will begin broadcast in twenty seconds."  He said.  She was already in the vent and sliding along to the main office.

          It started with the elevator.  The building went on emergency lockdown.  No one in or out, no one in the halls on other floors would get into rooms.  No one in rooms would get out of them.  The guards, now two on the roof, were stuck there.  A third in the elevator going down to the false fire alarm, while a third sat locked in between floors around the fifteenth…

          Then the lights went out and the kitten stifled a snicker as the alarmed voices of the two men hidden in their impenetrable offices found they were suddenly staring at darkness.  One rushed to the phone, but the lines were all dead.  There wasn't a sound in the office, just two men who were suddenly very afraid.

          There was a click as the liquid crystal display on the wall slowly began to illuminate the room.  The large screen dissolved from the snowy field to a crackling display of morphing eyes.  Male and female…

          "Do not attempt to adjust your set.  This is a streaming freedom Satellite hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net."  A dual chorus of voices, his and hers, announced the coming hack to all who had access to television broadcasting this night.

          Both men in the room turned to face the screen.  They knew what it meant.  They knew they had been bagged and tagged at this point.  Dickerson reached into his sport coat and pulled out his weapon.  It was a small Walther, a souvenir of his days in Europe.

          "That won't help."  Sutherland said.  "Its over," he made the statement, completely defeated.  He had already given up.

          "I'm not going out like your father."

          "This hack cannot be traced.  It will never be stopped and it is the only free voice left in this broken nation."  The male and female voices said.  The eyes phasing between man and woman, and image complete, whole.

          "I cannot believe this is happening."  Dickerson said.

          "Face it," Sutherland said.  "It's over."

          "Roland Dickerson, President and CFO of Sutherland Pharmaceuticals and his partner, Johnson Sutherland, the Chief Executive Officer have been deceiving not only their buyers in the medical community, but the government as well."  Eyes Only began his declaration of their crimes.  They were being tried.  They would soon be convicted.

          "Jesus!"  Sutherland said out loud.  "He knows…"

          "He doesn't know.  He can't know."  Dickerson shouted.

          "Sutherland pharmaceuticals built its reputation on the people of this and other communities.  They supplied most of the hospitals along the west coast with their life saving drugs.  Graham Sutherland started his company to save lives.  His son Johnson Sutherland continued the company after his father's death to save his own life.  With money and power comes greed.  Absolutely."  Eyes Only explained.

          "Roland Dickerson knew greed well.  He was the mastermind behind the project known as The Wicker Sham.  A money saving program designed to offer placebos to elderly patients that thought they were getting the drugs they needed to maintain their healthy lifestyle.  Through an Eyes Only informant, these documents and the numbers from the projects bottom line over the last three years has been presented.  The money made on The Wicker Sham did not go to company taxes or even to company payroll, it went directly into the pockets of Roland Dickerson and Johnson Sutherland and three high level accomplices in the operation."

          Both men looked at each other before looking back to the large screen hanging on the wall.  They did not notice the slight shadow dropping silently into the room behind them.  They would know nothing but the darkness surrounding them.  Their only remaining thoughts would be how this could have happened to them.

          "These men and the three Vice Presidents of Sutherland Pharmaceuticals are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of elderly and others who have died needlessly because of the placebos they were administered instead of the drugs they needed to continue living.  These men will be held accountable.  These company executives will pay for their crimes tonight."

          Roland turned to look around the office.  There wasn't a movement in the shadows cast about the room from the glowing screen on the wall.  He felt the hand close around his neck, though.  He wanted to turn and shoot it, but he didn't have that choice.  His weapon fired in the direct line in front of him.  The bullet ripped into the stomach of Johnson Sutherland, followed by another.  Then a third…

          She snapped his neck watching the body slump to the floor in front of her.  She looked at the crumpled body of the owner of the company clutching at his stomach and staring in disbelief at the small, beautiful woman standing above him.

          Johnson glanced at the weapon lying on the floor in front of him.  He laughed.  The irony in his friend's statement earlier was not lost on him.  Dickerson, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire like Sutherland's father at Sonrisa's party that night had delivered the same fate to the son.  He laughed even as the pain wracked his body.  "I never believed death could be so beautiful."  He looked up at the shadow of a woman in front of him, her face illuminated by the glow of the broadcast.  His sarcastic laughter bordered on insane cackling as he crumpled to the floor in a puddle of his own blood.

          "The police are on their way, but they will find only the bodies of men and women that deserve only the hell they find themselves in now.  This has been a Streaming Freedom Satellite hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net."

          "Peace."

          "Out…"

          The Screen went blank and dark as the glow faded out.  Leaving only the moons glow in the growing puddle beneath one of the men, she left the room and headed for the stairs.  Doors opened for her alone as she exited the building through the fire escape.  The building itself, remained on lockdown until the police arrived to clean up after the broadcast.  She was long gone on her ninja when the reporters arrived to claim sole responsibility for lead stories on the local news broadcasts.

          Later, in a dark tower high above their city, they stood entwined in each other moving slowly in the candlelit penthouse.  It was a slow process, but a goal they had worked diligently toward.  One they were proud of.  A goal they were coming closer to seeing through each day.

          She looked up into her guardian's eyes.  He stared deeply into hers and they smiled.  No words were necessary.  Their thoughts were enough to sustain them at times like these.  Soon, another agent of evil would step forth and again this man and his woman would jump into the Chaos to stop that evil from spreading further into the already broken world.

          Now, though…

          They had earned this peace.  This night would be theirs alone.  She kept her man close at times like these, for only he was allowed to see what such activity did to her, what such a choice made her become, to accomplish the task of bringing an end to evil in an evil nation.

          The Darkest Aspect of ultimate power sat, again pleased.  Each piece of the puzzle was a great cost, but a necessary one upon His most prized creation.  He had many choices in His war against evil.  Never had He expected this pair to make up so much ground in the universal battle between good and evil…

          He was proud.  Always, very proud of His Dark Angel and her Guardian and in the end, they would receive the greatest reward for their sacrifices.  Tonight, they would have their dance, their time for each other and the little bit of happiness they deserved at such times…


	4. On the Run

Of Shadow Born  
  
On the Run  
  
He looked at her with a wild glint in his eyes. She was his everything, and the two kids put his life into perspective. It was morning, but somehow waking up beside the short, blonde mother of two was all he needed to energize him after a good night of sleep. She stared up into his blue eyes with her brilliant green and they kissed. She giggled as his mustache brushed her upper lip as he turned toward the door, grabbing his briefcase as he went.  
  
Quentin Barker had no idea that today would be the first day of the rest of his life.  
  
The car started perfectly. It wasn't prone to such acts of loyalty, but for some reason it worked like a charm this morning. He drove through sector checkpoints as usual, nodding and chatting while overzealous rookies scanned his car and sector hoverdrones snapped his picture. He smiled and waved, always the ham for a camera.  
  
Strange as it was, entering sector nine was easier than usual. There were not a lot of people standing around trying to get into the re- burgeoning financial district. Recent events had left Seattle more stable than the rest of the country and it was fast becoming the mold for other areas of The Broken States of America. Quentin found his wait to be short and his parking spot was even empty when he arrived at his office.  
  
"Hey Q," Someone shouted when he got out of his car. He glanced over his shoulder to see Devon Carter walking toward him. A friend from college, she had been his counterpart in another office, but her company had closed down due to some cutbacks in the local government. "Can I talk to you?" She asked. She was carrying a plain brown folder tied by a string.  
  
"Hey Devon," Quentin said. "I'm sorry to hear about your office. You got any prospects?"  
  
"No." She said. "Take this." She handed him the folder.  
  
"What is it?" He asked.  
  
"Proof." She said. With a last, long stare into his eyes, she turned and walked away.  
  
Quentin looked down at the folder in his hands then up at the woman approaching the intersection. She glanced over her shoulder one last time as he watched her. "What kind of proof?" He shouted the question. She turned away and he didn't like what he saw in her eyes. Looking around he noticed the street was mainly devoid of cops, but there were several citizens wandering and walking and standing by on the street. It seemed to him, they were waiting for something. With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned around and grabbed his briefcase from between the seats and slid the folder inside.  
  
Tires screeched somewhere behind him. Choosing to close the briefcase before looking would prove to be the first moment he realized that all was not right in his world. A man shouted. A woman screamed, and as he turned to see what the commotion was about, gunshots rang out in the busy Seattle street. He watched a car speed away, but out of the corner of his eye he caught a body falling to the pavement.  
  
A woman's body.  
  
Devon Carter's body.  
  
And he ran with the briefcase in his hand to the center of the intersection where she fell. He pulled her into his arms. She looked up at him, coughing up some blood onto his expensive suit. "Devon!" He practically shouted her name.  
  
"Find him." She managed to say between coughs.  
  
"Find who?" He asked. "Is this about the folder?"  
  
"Find him." She said again.  
  
"Who?" Quentin asked, growing frantic now.  
  
"Eyes." She whispered. Then she died. Still no cops had arrived.  
  
He set her head gently to the pavement. He looked up at the people around him. A crowd had begun to gather several feet away forming a large circle around the victim. He stood and took a second long glance at everyone. "Where are the cops?" He asked. No one responded. "Call someone." He said. He realized he was holding the briefcase in his right hand, soaked from the blood of Devon's wounds. He had his phone in his left hand.  
  
He dialed his home number.  
  
He didn't know why he said what he did. He had no idea what possessed him to call home and not authorities. He listened to the words as he spoke them. "Honey." He paused. He looked around at the people watching him as the crowd parted for him as he walked. "Get the kids." His voice said. He recognized it as his own. "Go to your sister's place down in LA. I'll meet you there." When he hung up the phone, he stopped and turned slowly, looking back to Devon's body. She was dead because of the folder in his briefcase. He held no doubt that his wife would leave Seattle. She didn't like it here, but when his job brought him up here to work on the Monroe project, she knew it would be better than they could find elsewhere.  
  
Now, bringing his family to Seattle had become something that should not be. He walked away from the crowd as the path cleared for his escape closed around the body again. Cars were stopping in the street. People were staring at him. He walked away from the offices and towers littering the street. He approached the marketplace near the old park and the slightest movement caught his vision and drew him in.  
  
He looked to the small crop of trees planted when the Market was opened after the pulse. It had been an attempt by the administration of the day that all was well in the world; that the pulse was just another hurdle to get over. Standing underneath the tree was a tall figure and leaning against the obviously male form was a smaller feminine one. He stared directly at them but for some reason he could only see them from the woman's perfect chest down. Their heads were enshrouded in the only shadow anywhere on the street in an early morning sun. Their faces were not visible.  
  
He approached the couple. They didn't seem surprised that he should be drawn to them, pulled toward them by some unseen force. Drawing closer he noticed the woman was leaning into the man she was with, but even at her awkward angle, he knew she was in complete control of her body. A car drove past and a glare of sunlight from the windows angle seemed to flash across the man for just an instant. A chill ripped down Quentin's spine as he saw the man's eyes in that split second.  
  
They were proud. They were deep and full of an intensity Quentin had never in his life felt before. Those eyes were staring deep into Quentin's own and he shivered as he caught the glance. Just as the glare lit the man's eyes, the car, moving forward, splashed his pant leg with muddy water from a puddle along the road, drawing his attention away from the couple.  
  
Looking down, he could see the muddy water running down his leg and dripping over his meticulously polished shoes. There was movement from the stand of trees in front of him, but he bent down and brushed his hand over the dirty splash of wet on his leg. He could hear a cat purring nearby. Someone was shouting. Another car was approaching, and he momentarily forgot about the couple guarded by shadow. The purring of the feline grew closer and moved behind him.  
  
The second car drove by, splashing his leg again.  
  
A hover drone passed overhead and began to circle.  
  
"Over there!" Someone shouted.  
  
"You should leave this area immediately." A strong male voice, very near to the purring said from behind him. "Go around the corner and head for sector 12." The voice continued.  
  
A third car splashed his pants with the muddy water. Quentin stared directly into the camera of the hover drone now stopped above him, for what seemed a long time. The moment was extremely surreal to him and he turned to speak to the strong male voice near the cat, but as he looked away from the hover drone, he realized he was alone on the street.  
  
A last glance toward Devon's body showed him the cops had finally arrived. A man was pointing in his direction. Quentin continued his turn, searching for the man with the eyes or the seemingly disembodied voice. He could see no one in the immediate vicinity. He couldn't even see the cat that had been purring.  
  
He was alone.  
  
Possessed now of a mind of all their own, his legs propelled him forward to the corner of the market near the arched entryway. He entered, quickly becoming another dingy specimen of Seattle street life. The market proved to be more than enough cover for him to disappear. Eventually, he found himself at a sector checkpoint, passing on foot into a sector growing darker by a storm approaching from the sea.  
  
He needed to get somewhere and find out what was in that folder. He needed to figure out why his friend Devon had died. He needed to know what possessed him and made him tell his wife to save herself. He needed answers, answers that were locked in the briefcase he carried.  
  
One week later.  
  
Quentin huddled in a dimly lit sector memorizing the information page for page and burning each page in an ashtray as he did so. He had been working on the Monroe project. It had been an ambitious project designed to rebuild Seattle from the ground up one building at a time. A hundred thousand jobs would be created in two years by this project. Funding was coming from several local businesses to back the project including a sizeable donation from Cale Industries CEO Bennett Cale and other noteworthy and prominent Seattle citizens. It was a good thing he had been doing. He would have had a major hand in the single most ambitious and massive project the nation had seen since the pulse.  
  
Instead of working toward a worthy goal in his top level office downtown, he was cowering along the wall of a rat infested no tell motel on the outskirts of the city. He was memorizing secrets and then organizing them one by one, saving the most damning evidence to turn over to anyone that could get the word out and put a stop to the heinous activity going on in the local government. He had become the keeper of the only evidence against the current Governor of the State of Washington and his co conspirator, Senator Wilson Garner.  
  
Together, these two men had put into effect a subtle plan and with that plan, they had enabled a series of events, operating like an old Rube Goldberg contraption that would, through this series of events and occurrences drop millions and millions of dollars into their pockets and take that much more away from the already empty coffers throughout the entire state.  
  
Quentin had no idea how Devon had come across this information. She had perhaps been involved and couldn't live with herself knowing she had been the cause of poverty. Perhaps her company was part of the laundering process. Maybe she was the tech that created the worm siphoning funds a few dollars at a time from each transaction. Whatever the reason had been, she had dumped all of it on Quentin and left him here, alone, to deal with her guilt.  
  
128 pages out of 150 later, he had memorized every number and signature and name in the folder. The bulk of the folder would be locked in a keyed locker at the train station for safe keeping. The remaining 22 pages were folded and tucked neatly into the depths of a small duffel bag he carried his street clothes in. Such evidence was too much for him to trust to chance. He had managed to set up a contact to turn over the information and hopefully return to his former life.  
  
The meeting was early the following morning. He would arrive early and watch the scene for a while before jumping into anything.  
  
The following morning arrived way to fast and Quentin awoke from his restless slumber leaving the dank, dismal quarters. He made his way into the depths of Seattle, toward the deserted warehouse the reporter had chosen. He arrived at the location four hours before he was supposed to be there. Playing the waiting game was nothing new to Quentin, his job in the business world was to make the company money and sometimes that required extreme patience.  
  
Approximately three hours after he staked out the building from across the alley, a man and a woman, dressed in conservative suits pulled up in a dull silver metallic Mercedes and entered the building he would be meeting them in. Ten minutes after they arrived, a group of men entered the building after them. They were not part of the plan and Quentin recognized this immediately. Just a few minutes later, four men carried two large black bags out of the building and shoved them in the trunk of the Mercedes before one of the men drove the vehicle off.  
  
Quentin left the area then. He headed back to the dismal motel room that he feared would eventually become his final resting place and turned on the television. He clutched the duffel bag to him like a security blanket and stared at the images that passed before his eyes. He had no idea how much time had passed him by. He was oblivious to the world outside the small smelly room. He was dozing off when he heard a familiar sound. The TV began to sizzle, crackle and hiss.  
  
"Do not attempt to adjust your set." Combined voices, male and female said. "This is a streaming freedom Satellite Hack of the Eyes Only Informant Net. This hack cannot be traced. It will not be stopped and it is the only free voice left in the city." The voices said. Eyes, male and female phased before him on the screen, separate and individual, but somehow combined into one. The eyes were an ever changing, yet single entity and Quentin stared at the screen.  
  
The broadcast was of no interest to him now. He remembered a time when he and his wife would sit in the living room and watch each new cable hack with awe. A sense of pride would come over them and each new hack ended with one less criminal in the world. He would look at his wife and smile. Sometimes, they would cheer and clap at the demise of a particularly ruthless crime lord or the fall of a vile politician. Eyes Only was every great comic book icon, every legendary protector of good and all of the greatest heroic figures history had to offer rolled into one stealthy, all seeing, all knowing personality. The Eyes Only Hack ended and Quentin had no idea what had just gone down. His mind was now on the memory of his family.  
  
They were gone. His wife had packed up the kids and fled as she was supposed to. They were safe. He hoped they were safe. He wanted to believe they were safe. He stared at the dissolving flash of cat's eyes that now ended every broadcast. He watched the snow form on the screen slowly fading back into the regular broadcast. He listened to the cracking and hissing of the end of the sequence and decided he had no choices left to him.  
  
He needed to find Eyes Only.  
  
Six weeks later.  
  
Slowly, he had begun to unravel. Paranoia had set in. He constantly looked over his shoulder... always searching for the cars that screeched or the bullets that ripped or the knife that slashed. He listened for cats and he stared into everyone's eyes. It had become all about the eyes. Cats comforted him. They followed him. They watched him, but the eyes were the most important factor in his existence.  
  
He needed to find those damned eyes.  
  
Every direction was a wall. Each new lead was a dead end. No one had any information on how to get to someone close to Eyes Only. He asked merchants, people on the streets, cops and he even asked a friend. A former co-worker had called his name as he walked through the market in the business district near where he used to work.  
  
Sam McGraff called out his name passing by on the street. He had practically bolted before he looked up through weary eyes and noticed the man staring at him.  
  
"Is that really you, Q?" Sam asked. "Damn, man. What happened to you? You don't show up for work. You're wife and kids skip town. You're house was ransacked."  
  
Quentin clutched the now smelly duffel bag to his chest and stared through dirty strands of hair at the suit in front of him. He couldn't recognize the man. He tried, but it was so long ago; another life, perhaps.  
  
"I'm not who you think I am." Quentin said.  
  
"What? Q, c'mon man, what happened? You're freaking me out here." Sam said taking a step forward. Quentin drew away, keeping his distance. "Buddy, it's me. Sam. From the office."  
  
"I know who you are." Quentin said. "But do I know who you are?" He shook his head wildly, mumbling incoherently.  
  
"Quentin." Sam said. "I'm your friend."  
  
"Don't do the friend thing, can't anymore. too dangerous. Thought I had a friend once but she died. Shot dead in the street. They got her. They took her away and now I hold the secret. Eyes. Gotta find the eyes. Do you know where the eyes are?" He babbled. "No. You don't know where the eyes are. No one knows where the eyes are because the eyes don't exist." He mumbled as he walked away, his former friend staring after him, stunned and saddened and full of pity and loathing. "The eyes have it." Quentin laughed. "The eyes don't have it." He answered himself, quickly, bitterly. "I have it. I have everything. I have the key."  
  
"I AM THE KEYMASTER!!!" Quentin shouted. People stared at the crazy man, pushing and pulling their kids behind them, out of the way. "FEAR ME!!! I ALONE HOLD THE SECRET!!!" Then he ran. He ran from the market and he ran until his legs could hold him no more, and when he collapsed in an abandoned warehouse frequented by bums and junkies, he fell asleep. The grungy, dirty duffel bag used as his pillow.  
  
It's strange how things happen. He heard the purring first. He knew he was dreaming. There she was. That body he had seen so many days ago. Only the beautifully sculpted figure wasn't a woman as he remembered, but a void within shadow. The darkest part of the shadow itself, she watched him watching her. She did not move.  
  
He opened one eye. He knew it was not a dream. The purring was louder. Closer. He opened the other eye and looked at the cats standing, lying, and sitting around his prone body on the floor. He shoved himself up to a sitting position and looked around. There was shadow everywhere. It was dark outside, early morning. He looked around again and realized he was alone except for the cats.  
  
One cat hissed. Another howled, making an almost horrid, gut wrenching sound and all the cats scattered save one. A small, black kitten stayed close, purring as it walked in circles around his arm, rubbing his side where he sat. He pulled the duffel over his left shoulder as he reached for the kitten with his right. She purred heavier and louder.  
  
He heard the footsteps then. Men had come. They had finally found him. All of his running and all of his searching and he was now facing what he could only see as the end of his path. He slowly lifted himself from the floor. Four men were approaching his position; two on his right and two on his left. A fifth man was walking directly towards him from the doorway near the old main floor office.  
  
"Quentin Barker." The suit said. "You are Quentin Barker aren't you?"  
  
"Quentin Barker is dead." He said to the suit. "He died the day you killed Devon." He was surprised he had remembered her name. He had forgotten so much of himself in the last several weeks.  
  
"I'm afraid that may be true, but maybe we can work something out? You have something, a folder that we need." The man said. "Give me the folder and we can work out some kind of deal."  
  
"No deals. Deals are for suckers. I don't like suckers. They leave a horrible taste in my mouth." Quentin said. The logic was sound to him.  
  
"He's insane." A thug on his right said. "Take him down, Boss?"  
  
"Not until we get the folder." The suit said. "Quentin? Q, right, you're friends used to call you Q, didn't they?"  
  
"Don't know. Don't know anything anymore. Don't know how to know, but I know a secret. Yes. The secret. You're here for the secret aren't you?"  
  
"He's babbling boss." The thug said. "Even if he's stashed it somewhere, he's got to have some clue somewhere."  
  
"That may be true." The suit said. He continued to argue with the thug, but Quentin noticed something. Behind the suit, deep in the darkness there, a shadow moved. Something wild seemed to materialize on the edge of the shadow. He thought he saw half of a woman's face push through the inky stillness, one eye, perched above a half smile of full pouting lips scanned the room. Quentin focused his weary, bleary eyes on the shadow trying to discern the features, but as quickly as they had appeared, with a wink directly into Quentin's eyes, the smooth, feminine features disappeared into the shadow again.  
  
"So what's it going to be?" The suit asked. "Where is the folder?"  
  
Quentin seemed to regain some level of composure at that moment. He straightened himself up to his full height, brushed away some hair from his face and with energy he hadn't possessed in a long, long time he smiled. "No Folder," he said. "No folder anymore. The secret's out. The honorable Governor and his Mayor have lost their honor." He said defiantly. He dropped the kitten to the floor and it circled his legs in a figure eight pattern as if protecting him from harm. "Let's end this. I'm tired of running." He said.  
  
The suit nodded. "It doesn't have to be this way." He said to Quentin.  
  
Q smiled. "No. It didn't have to be this way, but greed can do things to a man, can't it?" Quentin looked at the shadow behind the suit. He was waiting for it to do something. He was expecting it to do something. It never moved.  
  
The suit nodded to the thug on his right. A gun was pulled. The thug with the bad attitude raised his arm, taking aim at Quentin's head. Quentin stared straight ahead, showing no fear. The kitten circled his feet without pause. He looked into the eyes of the suit in front of him and waited for the report of the weapon.  
  
It never came.  
  
Before either Q or the suit realized what had happened, the two men were standing, facing each other, seemingly alone. The four thugs lay unconscious on the floor. Both men were in shock. Both men looking around for any sign of movement, but there was none.  
  
"What the." the suit started to ask the question. He never got the chance. The shadow behind him, the one Q had been watching for movement finally moved. It reached out for the suit and pulled him into itself. A sound, not quite a pop, but not quite a rip sounded and the suits body dropped forward. It landed on the edge of the darkness near the wall of shadow that had killed him.  
  
"Who are you?" Q asked the shadow.  
  
"A friend," A female voice said behind him. Slowly he turned to find an angel wrapped in black leather holding the kitten in her hands. He looked up and recognized the figure he had seen so long ago. Now, just as she had been then, her face was enshrouded in shadow, but he could tell from the barely visible features that she was one of the most beautiful creatures the world had ever seen. "There is a car waiting through that door." The angel said, pointing to the door along the alley. "A man is waiting to take you to see Eyes Only."  
  
"Eyes Only." Q didn't understand. He truly believed those damned eyes didn't exist.  
  
"Yes. He's been watching you. Protecting you until the time is right."  
  
"I was bait?" He asked the girl.  
  
The angel giggled. "No. The folder was bait. You were the rod we used to smite the evildoers." Her laughter was the second sweetest sound he would ever hear.  
  
"I've memorized everything. I know it all." He held out the duffel bag. "The most damning evidence is in the secret pocket at the bottom of the bag." She took the duffel from him and handed him the kitten. "What about my family?" He asked hopefully.  
  
"You're wife and kids are safe. Eyes Only intercepted them on their way to LA. They are waiting for you, but it will be a few more days before you can see them."  
  
"Thank God!" Quentin said. His legs almost gave out. The graceful woman lunged for him and held him with a strong arm around his waist. He glanced down into her eyes and she smiled up into his. Her eyes held knowledge someone so beautiful, so young should not know. She was not what she appeared to be. No one should have the depth in their eyes this little one possessed.  
  
"The car is waiting outside. We'll clean up in here. The police are on their way. Take the driver to the folder and he'll get it to Eyes Only." She said.  
  
Quentin glanced around the warehouse. The kitten purred near his heart, curling up in his folded arm. As he started toward the door, one last glance revealed another smallish girl with long flaming red hair tied with a red satin sash about her head. She walked toward Q and the girl, never quite entering into the light. Both young women were possessed of a feline grace that he would never understand, but was thankful for. He waved to the two of them as he reached for the door. Outside, a scholarly looking man in a dull, blue-grey Aztek smiled and reached out his hand and shook Q's vigorously.  
  
"Eyes Only is looking forward to seeing the evidence and hearing what you have to tell him." The man said. Q looked into his eyes and recognized them. "Get in. We have a lot to do and little time to do it. I imagine you are anxious to see your family again?" The man said with a smile that made Q feel as if he finally understood things again.  
  
Six days later.  
  
The limo driver hadn't made it out of the car when Q opened his own rear door. The chateau in the south of France was a welcome sight. It was a beautiful day. When he saw his youngest daughter rushing out of the front door of the large house, it became a perfect day. His son, a few years older than the girl rushed out followed by his wife. He caught the girl up in his arms and couldn't suppress the tears that spilled over his cheeks. His son crashed into his hip and his wife grabbed him and held on tight promising over and over again that she would never let him out of her sight again.  
  
The small kitten purred in a cage in the back seat. The little girl noticed it first and slid down her father's body, rushing into the limo to pull it out. She and the boy carried it into the house followed closely by the man and woman that would never leave each others sight again. He hugged his wife closely and told her over and over again how much he loved her.  
  
As they walked, Q prayed to the gods that were listening. He wanted them to look after the dark little angel and her man. He needed the gods to listen to his prayers and watch over them. He owed them his life and the lives of his family and although they asked nothing in return for his trials, he would gladly offer anything to help them in the future.  
  
Somewhere not here.  
  
He sat in His place that was not a place and he watched. He listened. It started slowly, gradually building to a continuous roar or prayer and praise. He would see to the prayers and he would protect them as they protected His children. They alone had the will and the power to defeat the Chaos that rose against His Universe and tried to take what he made, away from him.  
  
The dark little angel and her guardian, born of shadow and stealth, living secret lives, and fighting the good fight would be protected. When their time came, as it inevitably did for all, they would be guaranteed a place of honor. It would be a most High Place where they would live forever, free to be together and have that which they sought above all else. He knew they would always be prepared, as they had always been, to rise against the evil when it showed its ugliness to them. 


End file.
